


Aftermath

by tiznanor



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Post-Barricade, marius deals with ptsd and related issues, warning: suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:09:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiznanor/pseuds/tiznanor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody seemed to know how he survived. Marius wished he hadn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Marius opened his eyes. He would call it waking up, but he wasn't sure if he actually had. Everything hurt. He saw ceiling. He didn't know where he was.

Oh.

Events returned to his memory. Some, he didn't want to remember. Eponine. Gavroche. So many others he saw die. And all for what? For what, Marius did not have an answer. He did not know where he was nor how he'd gotten there. He did not know where his friends were. He did not know how long it took for the battle to be won.

The battle was won, it had to be. How else would he be here? Marius had realised on the barricade that the only way any of the men would survive would be to win the battle. The opposing soldiers had demonstrated their mercilessness the moment they had shot down his young friend.

So where were Enjolras and the others?

His was disturbed from his thoughts when he saw a nurse enter his field of vision. A hospital, then. He was in a hospital. The woman was saying something but Marius could not understand her. He tried to sit- to look around and see which of his friends had survived- but hands held him down.

Marius was glad of that, too. Suddenly his body was on fire. Knives dug through his shoulder and side. His chest burned with an intensity he had only previously imagined. The lower half of his body remained undisturbed, but he knew his legs would hurt just as bad. Even where there wasn't stabbing pain, every other part of his body felt at least bruised. The pain was enough to take Marius's breath away.

A cold hand touched his forehead.

He fell back asleep.

Marius fell in and out of sleep for what felt like years. He would be fed, bandages would be changed. The sleep was fitful, but the time awake was miserable. The pain took forever to lessen even slightly. He was too weak to speak. He was glad every time he lost consciousness again.

Once Marius could stay awake for more than a few moments at a time, they let him sit up. But when he did, he saw no familiar faces. The beds next to him were empty. Had his friends already healed and gone? Would they be in to see him? Every time he asked after them, there was no answer. The sisters at the hospital refused to make eye contact with him.

One day, he couldn't take it anymore. Marius was restless. He was getting no answers. He had been in this bed for weeks, at least.

"Where are my friends?" He asked. Nobody answered. He asked again, louder. The woman nearest him flinched and continued pouring water into the bowl at his bedside. He repeated the question once more in an even louder tone.

Another woman rushed in and shushed him.

"You must calm yourself, monsieur."

A sinking feeling filled Marius's stomach. He had hoped and pretended for so long, but suddenly he knew.

"They're dead, aren't they?" His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "All of them."

The women dropped their gazes and left the room, providing all the answer Marius needed.

He wept.


	2. Chapter 2

Nobody seemed to know how he survived. Nor did they understand his injuries. Yes, there were the gunshot wounds one would expect- one in his left shoulder, one that narrowly missed his stomach. His forehead had been grazed by a bayonet. A broken leg, most likely from his fall from the barricade. These were normal for a man who has narrowly survived a battle. But nobody could explain the bruises that seemed to cover every inch of his body as if he had been dragged behind a carriage for miles. He had been found outside the hospital the morning after the battle, inexplicably covered in sewage. It didn't take a genius to figure out that somebody had rescued Marius. But who? How? Why?

Nobody seemed to know how he survived. Marius wished he hadn't.

The recovery was slow. He had a fever for a month. He had visitors, but he was never coherent enough to remember them. He didn't care. Anyone Marius wanted to see was dead. Everyone he knew. Everyone who mattered.

Eponine. His best friend. The girl who loved Marius so much, she followed him into battle. And he had repaid her with his ignorance of her love. She died in his arms. For him. Protecting him.

Gavroche. Eponine's brother, who might as well have been Marius's own blood. He and Les Amis had all but raised the boy. The boy too stubborn to stand aside and let his best friends fight without him. The boy who wouldn't take no for an answer. Marius saw him die. Shot in cold blood. For them. Alongside his sister and friends.

Enjolras. Their glorious leader. So devoted to a cause that had died even sooner than its supporters. The man responsible for all the others. Marius was told he was found hanging from a window. Dead. For France. Dead for a lost cause.

Grantaire. So devoted to his leader that he followed him into battle after doubting its very fundamentals. Damned to a fiery death on the barricade he helped build solely out of loyalty. Marius was certain Grantaire died by Enjolras's side. For his Apollo. Alongside his god.

Courfeyrac. Marius's dearest friend. The one who quietly loaned him money when he needed it. Gave him a place to stay. The one who'd introduced Marius to all the others. Dead on the barricade.

The others, too. All his friends. Jehan. Joly. Combeferre. Feuilly, Bahorel, Lesgle. All had earned Marius's trust and companionship. And all were now long gone. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead, dead, dead. For an idea. They were not the martyrs they had hoped to be. They had sacrificed themselves for nothing.

So why was it fair that Marius survived? What was the point in continuing life when so many others did not get the chance? What had he done wrong?

Every day he lay in bed, Marius silently prayed for it all to end. He could not feel his condition improving. What was the point?

One day, his grandfather came to visit. He asked Marius for forgiveness, inviting him to come live in his home again. Marius shrugged his agreement and waited for the man to leave. He could never understand his pain. Once his wounds healed, many scars would still remain.

It was a cloudy day, the first full day he spent awake, when Marius got another visitor. He gave a disinterested grunt of permission when he was asked if he would meet them.

When his visitor entered the small room, everything was forgotten. For the first time in over a month, it was Marius's soul on fire instead of his body. A flood of nearly forgotten emotions ran through the man, allowing him to form a smile now unfamiliar to him as he met the eyes of his darling Cosette. If it had been possible for Marius to forget his love, he would have been convinced that was exactly what had happened since he woke up. There had been no room in his heavy heart for love where grief had taken over.

But love found its way back into his heart just as Cosette found her way into his room in that hospital. She sat with him and let him forget the entire time she was there. It was there that Marius knew he would live for her. He would heal and marry Cosette.

The recovery may be difficult and painful, but she made it possible.


	3. Chapter 3

Do I care if I should die, now that she goes across the sea?

He stands atop the barricade, a keg of gunpowder in one hand and a flaming chairleg in the other. Any National Guardsman could shoot him right now. He doesn't care. He warns the soldiers to get back or he will blow the barricade. Someone warns him that he will just go up with it. He knows that. The soldier who spoke sees the look in his eyes and knows he is deadly serious. The order is given to fall back and the soldiers are gone for now. He climbs down. Someone yells at him for being so stupidly suicidal. Someone else congratulates him for his fast thinking. He hardly hears them.

He blinks and when he opens his eyes everyone around him is dead. He sees Eponine first. Gavroche is not far from her. The bodies of Les Amis are laid out in a row- Courfeyrac. Enjolras. Grantaire. Combeferre. Joly. Jehan. Leslgle. Fieully. All of them dead. Marius could not save them. He had failed them. Why should he live when they must die?

He blinks again. When he opens his eyes, his friends are gone. In their place lies Cosette. Blood stains her perfectly white dress. Her eyes are open, but the life he'd seen in them is gone. He is sure he screams though he cannot hear it.

Life without Cosette means nothing at all.

He looks down and sees the keg and flambeau are still in his hands. A tear falls into the flame but it is not put out as it is lowered to the gunpowder. Everything is very bright, and then very dark.

—

Marius awoke in a cold sweat, looking frantically around the room until he saw Cosette still sitting in the chair by his bedside. Cosette. Alive. She had stayed waiting for him when he slept. He allowed himself to calm down, though he could still feel his hands shaking under the blankets.

"You had another dream." The concern showed clearly in Cosette's eyes as she realised why he had awaken. She placed a hand on his, and he could feel its warmth through the blanket. It comforted him and he wished more of them could be touching.

"You were in this one," Marius looked down at his bedsheets, willing the dream to leave his memory. It did not. "You… Must have been at the barricade and…"

"It was only a dream." Another warm hand found its way to his cheek, gently directing his head and his gaze back upward. "Look at me." Cosette was sitting at the edge of his bed now. "I'm here. See? I'm safe. I am here with you. And we will be together forever. I'm watching over you until you get better. And then…" She leaned in closer, voice lowered to a whisper, her full smiling face filling his vision. "…We can be married!"

She moved to lower her hand, but Marius rose his own hand, placing it over hers, keeping it there. He breathed in her warmth, memorising every detail of her presence.

Cosette was safe… He pulled her closer to him, laying her head on his chest, ignoring the dull pain that still remained.

Cosette was here with him… He wrapped his arms around her and lazily stroked her hair.

And they would be together forever… She stayed in his arms until he fell back asleep.

She was watching over him until he got better… Marius did not have the dream again that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Eventually, they let Marius get out of bed. Slowly, he began walking again with the help of a cane. It was terribly slow and frustrating work until he could get his strength back, but Cosette was there through all of it. She watched him work every day until he became too upset and then she would convince him to rest or take a break. Through those days, she was his strength.

When he could walk well enough again, Marius expressed his desire to visit the café. His nurse said this was a bad idea. So did Cosette's father. Cosette sat quietly as Marius explained this was something he needed to do and insisted he could handle it. When he had finished, she agreed with Marius and volunteered to go with him. So they went.

The Café Musain was still empty, exactly how it had been on the night of the battle. Marius slowly climbed the stairs with Cosette's help and she waited for him on the stairs.

Marius sat down at the one remaining table in the corner and examined the room closer. Blood still stained the floor and walls. Someone had died up here. Someone he knew.

The grief he felt was unbearable, dwarfing anything he'd felt since waking up. Suddenly, it was all real. Everything that had happened. This was where he had met his friends, where they would drink together after a long day of classes, where they had first heard Enjolras's plan of rebellion and agreed to help, where they had learned of General Lamarque's death. This was where they dreamed of changing France. There was history here. And this was where it ended.

He wept the tears of a child, wondering again why they had to die when he of all people lived. Marius could practically hear the voices of his hopeful friends, young and naive, wanting nothing more than a better world to live in.

He could almost see their faces, his friends with him in this room. There was Enjolras, avidly discussing his plans with anyone who would listen. Grantaire sitting at the table, a bottle of wine at his lips, eagerly watching him speak. Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and the others spread around the room, some listening to their leader, some chatting idly about their latest classes and assignments. Marius could hear the laughter in the room. He almost smiled at the sight of his friends.

He blinked again and they were gone, and Marius was once again reminded of how truly alone he was in the cafe, and how his friends had met such terrible ends. Why was it fair for him to live? Why had it happened? How? Now more than ever he thought about how he would have much rather died in the fight than be left like this after it. The grief alone crushed his soul.

Marius sat in silence for a while longer until he could pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to leave. He had seen what he had come for. Standing somewhat shakily, he crossed the room back to Cosette. She had waited for him again. He tried to smile at her in reassurance and the look she returned was one of understanding, of hurting for him. Marius knew she hated to see him this way.

He also knew that no matter how much Cosette tried, she would never understand his pain in her whole life.

Even her presence did not lighten his heavy heart this time.


End file.
